


Scorching Hot Coffee

by jensenacklesruinedmylife



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coffee, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, cas likes coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:40:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jensenacklesruinedmylife/pseuds/jensenacklesruinedmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a few things Dean doesn't expect when he and Sam get Cas back to the bunker after finding him in the middle of the road. </p><p>"The first thing Dean does not expect is for the coffee to be practically boiling. // </p><p>The second thing Dean doesn’t expect is Cas’s lips to meet his."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scorching Hot Coffee

“Damn, Cas, how much of that coffee are you gonna drink?”

Dean stares at the pile of mugs on the table where Cas sits, sipping slowly at his coffee. Since moving into the Batcave, Cas made it a habit to make the coffee every morning, but had yet to learn to stop drinking every last drop.

“I will never understand why you can’t use just one mug.”

Sometimes Cas annoys Dean, drives him crazy, but this morning, Cas looks well, he looks almost fully healed, and he actually left some coffee in the pot, so Dean can’t find it in himself to get upset. The first few days after he and Sam brought Cas back, he didn’t sleep, watching over the angel for hours on end to make sure he didn’t disappear again.

Cas knew this, of course, but hadn’t said anything. He found it endearing, how Dean was so fiercely protective. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least somewhat fond of the green-eyed hunter.

When Cas doesn’t respond, Dean asks, “So how’s the, uh…?” he makes circular motions with his hands around his abdomen.

“My wounds are healing, Dean. Slowly, but they’re healing.”

“They’d probably heal a hell of a lot faster if you’d quit getting up at the crack of dawn to make so much coffee,” Dean teases.

Cas recognizes that Dean is joking and smiles behind the edge of his mug.

“Hmm,” he hums. “I never understood why you humans are so addicted to this concoction,” he takes another sip, “but I can’t stop drinking it.”

“‘Course you can’t,” Dean replies with a smile, picking through the mugs and grabbing the cleanest one. “Hand me the pot, would ya?”

Cas slides over the half empty glass pot as Dean sits down in the chair next to him. Dean pours the coffee into his cup, then moves the cup to his mouth.

The first thing Dean does not expect is for the coffee to be practically boiling.

“Fuck!” he curses, spitting and almost dropping his mug back onto the table. “Ah, shit, dammit Cas!”

Cas sets his mug down, concerned. “Dean, what is it?”

Dean dabs at his lips with his fingers and winces. “You couldn’t warn me that you drink your coffee scorching hot?!”

Cas tilts his head, and then his eyes widen in realization. “Oh, goodness, the coffee burned your lip?” He suddenly feels terribly guilty.

“No shit, Cas!” Dean responds harshly. His top lip still stings. “Damn, that hurt.”

The second thing Dean doesn’t expect is Cas’s lips to meet his.

Dean remains still, unsure how to react to the sudden intimacy of the situation. Cas doesn’t move much either, except to apply a bit of pressure to Dean’s lips with his own before pulling away and sitting back down.

“Better?” he asks innocently, and Dean realizes that Cas had only been trying to heal him. After a few seconds of staring, he reaches up with one hand and touches his lip.

It feels fine.

“Cas,” Dean says quietly, and his voice sounds rough in his throat.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas asks, waiting, head tilted again, blue eyes bright with worry.

Dean isn’t sure what comes over him then, but he says, “Do that again.”

“Why? Did it not work? I know I’ve lost a lot of power but-.”

“Cas,” Dean says again, louder, looking down at his hands. “Just… do that again.” He looks up. “Please.”

So Cas does it again, reaching out to grab Dean by the side of his neck, tugging gently until Dean’s face is close, and leaning in to rest his lips on the hunter’s. It feels nice, and he wonders if that’s why Dean had asked him to do it again. Either way, he doesn’t mind.

And then Cas realizes that Dean is kissing him.

He pulls away quickly, placing a hand on Dean’s chest to separate them.

“What is it?” Dean asks, his own hands resting on Cas’s knees.

“You’re kissing me,” Cas deadpans, stating it as a fact instead of a question.

Dean looks bewildered for a second, then nervous. He moves his hands, using one to rub the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “I just…” he looks back up at Cas. “I thought I might never get the chance to do that - to kiss you - I thought…” he looks back down, and Cas grabs one of his hands.

“What is it?”

Dean sighs, trying not to fidget at the physical contact. “I thought you’d never come back,” he blurts out, and he can almost feel himself growing a uterus. He hates talking about his feelings, but he had one foot in the water now. Might as well dive in.

“I thought I’d lost you again,” he continues, “then you show up, idiot that you are, in the middle of the damn road, and I almost run you over, and now you’re here, and you’re back, and,” he lifts their connected hands, “we’re us again, and I missed you.”

Dean slumps in his seat, the weight of his feelings finally off his shoulders.

The third thing Dean doesn’t expect is for his feelings to be mutual.

Cas leans forward again, this time to kiss him. When their lips connect, Cas works open Dean’s mouth with his tongue and Dean moans, soft and beautiful, and Cas hadn’t known Dean could make such a pretty sound. Their tongues dance for a while, and Cas feels Dean’s arms move around him, strong hands stopping on his hips.

Dean pulls away first, and Cas blinks, woozy from the kiss. Dean worries his lower lip between his teeth before saying it.

“I need you.”

And there they are, those words, the words that Cas had replayed in his head, over and over, every day since he left Dean alone and clueless in the crypt. Cas smiles, because he knows what Dean really means, because he knows how honest those words are, and because now, in the safety of the Batcave, surrounded by coffee mugs filled with scorching hot coffee, in Dean’s warm arms, he can finally say,

“I need you, too.”


End file.
